Free
Title: Free
Author:darksylvia
Rating/warning: Explicit language.
Summary: Brian has another encounter with his mother.
Author’s Notes: Er...okay, it's minor, but I wrote this before I realized Justin was back in school by this time. CowLip slipped it by me, those sneaky bastards. It's set sometime after 410. Also, thank you again to msjudi for being so awesome as to check my story for me. Any left-over oddities are mine.
Disclaimer: Brian, Justin, and Joan are not mine. When I'm rich, I'll buy CowLip out, and then we'll see about disclaimers.
Feedback: Comments or the lj email in my profile.


Since the last semipublic blow up with his mother, Brian had relegated her back to the part of his brain labeled “do not examine” and gone on his merry way, fucking Justin at least twice a day and usually more than that if they got the chance. He’d even stopped for a mid-afternoon fuck a week ago with a hot guy who’d been making eyes at him during a business lunch. It was good to be back.

So when Joan showed up at the loft one Sunday (after church, of course), he was unprepared and the “do not examine” file broke and flooded him with unreasoning hate and a tinge of pity. It was the usual gut-wrenching mixture he felt around his mother, and it was worse when he was unprepared. Sometimes he wondered if there had ever been feelings of love back there at some point, but the most he could muster now was a vague feeling of guilt that he refused to acknowledge, and a sort of empty ache, like being just a little hungry. It had a taste of anger now, too, after the incident with his nephew.

He stared at her for a minute before quickly recovering as he always did, and giving her an impassive look, never moving from the doorway. Justin was in the shower, so if he could get rid of her quickly, they could still go out to lunch without interrupting the flow of their day. It had been pleasant so far, but if anyone could fuck that up it was his mother.

“May I help you?” he asked. He was trying out icily polite because she always got too much righteous steam off of his rudest and wittiest replies. While amusing and emotionally satisfying, one of those probably wouldn’t get rid of her fast enough, and he wasn’t particularly angry today, so he wanted to avoid the whole scene.

He listened to the running water with half an ear and wondered which part of his body Justin was soaping now. If it was his head there was time, but if he’d already moved on to his chest, time was of the essence. Momentarily distracted by thoughts of Justin, naked, wet, and soapy, he nearly missed Joan’s reply.

“Your sister needs help.”

“Haven’t I been saying that for years?” he replied, unable to help himself. It was just too easy. But at Joan’s glare, he remembered his bid for time and amended, “And this concerns me how?”

“Her second husband--”

“She got married again? When?” interrupted Brian before he could remind himself that he didn’t care.

“If you would return my calls you would have known two months ago,” said Joan, evenly.

“Well, congratulations to her for finding some cock sucker stupid enough to put up with all of her shit. I’m still not seeing the connection to me.”

“She’s divorcing him due to irreconcilable differences, and she needs a lawyer,” said Joan. It was a little rushed, but her lips weren’t quite so pinched now that she’d gotten out what she needed to say. He ignored the ‘irreconcilable differences’ part because with Claire, what difference wouldn’t be irreconcilable? But he felt his temper flair at being treated as the family cash cow, once again.

“Ah, I understand now. In good times, I’m going to hell. In times of financial woe, I’m the benevolent rich brother. Well, I don’t care if she gets taken for everything. She and her evil little devil spawn can go on welfare.”

“Brian, you don’t mean that--” started Joan.

“Right, because you know, I lie all the time. Especially about that whole molestation charge. What a fucking joke, huh?”

“Claire said she was sorry, and so did John, Brian. She needs your help. He’s threatening to take the children and--”

“I think that’s the best news I’ve heard all day. Claire has to be the second worst mother I’ve ever seen, and nearly any place those kids could go would be a step up.” He meant it. Joan pinched her lips even tighter at the implied insult, but forged ahead anyway.

“They mustn’t go to that man,” she said, urgently enough that Brian decided to take the bait and ask the obvious question.

“Why not?”

“He’s a perv--well, a homose--” she cut herself off abruptly, as if suddenly realizing who she was talking to.

He stared at her apprehensive face for a minute before he felt an odd sensation rise up in his chest. It tickled in his throat and when it finally surfaced, he had a moment to be surprised before he burst into laughter. And it wasn’t the mocking laughter he had cultivated to achieve maximum scorn. It was actual, uncontrolled, real laughter.

The irony, he thought, was going to kill him.

“You mean he really is a cock sucker?” He laughed harder, and hiccupped.

“Brian! Surely even with your...lifestyle--” he could hear where she carefully omitted ‘disgusting’ from her usual pitch “--even you can see that they shouldn’t go to him. They belong with Claire!”

“Can you even hear yourself?” Brian wheezed.

“Hey Brian, have you seen my blue Banana Republic shirt?” Justin’s voice came nearer. “I swear I left it here, but now it’s not in the drawer...” he trailed off when he saw the scene at the door. “Brian! Are you okay?” Still clad in his towel, he came running over to see what was wrong with a doubled over and red-faced Brian.

Brian looked up at Justin, glanced over at his mother’s priceless expression, and nearly choked on a fresh wave of laughter. He couldn’t speak at all, or he might have tried to give Justin a reassuring word. He didn’t dare look at his mother again or he’d probably be laughing for a week. Gasping slightly and trying to shake a concerned Justin off of his arm, he straightened and wiped tears from his eyes. Then he took several deep breaths.

“Brian, you may not be sorry to be going to hell, but those boys deserve a home where they won’t be witnessing terrible sin. I would think that after your cancer there should be no doubt in your mind that your lifestyle isn’t healthy--”

“Well, sorry to disappoint you mom, but getting my dick sucked was precisely what saved me. A doctor on bended knee with his mouth wrapped around my cock was the one who caught it. Think--if I hadn’t been getting a blow job at that exact moment with that exact man, they might not have caught the cancer in time.”

“Oh my god!” said Justin. “You never told me that. Who was it?”

“That new guy,” said Brian, with studied nonchalance. “From the bet.”

“The bet?” Justin said. “You won the bet and you didn’t even gloat?”

“Gambling is a sin--” started Joan.

“Oh, please, mom. You’re like a broken record.” He was torn between tearing off Justin’s towel and Frenching him in order to shock Joan into going away, and guarding the door so she couldn’t get in to keep pushing her hopeless case. He settled for pulling Justin closer to him and using him to help block the door.

“Oops,” he said to Justin, in high-pitched, mock regret. “It looks like you’ll have to go back to school after all.” This caused Justin to get that mutinous, stubborn look on his face so Brian kissed him before it could settle into place. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Joan’s mouth pinch. He congratulated himself on his multitasking abilities.

“Sorry mom,” he said, starting to slide the door closed. “I’ve got better things to do than fuck up the only chance at sane parenting my nephews are going to get.”

“Brian. I’m going keep calling you! You can’t hide from your family when they need you! I’m sure you can change if you just try--” her voice was muffled by the thickness of the door.

“What was that all about?” asked Justin wrapping his arms around Brian’s neck and letting himself be walked backward toward the futon cushions.

“It seems,” Brian said, starting to laugh all over again, “that we have a new family member. Claire’s second husband. Only it turns out he’s queer. And he’s trying to take the children in the divorce for which I will not be buying Claire a lawyer.”

Justin processed this.

“Let me get this straight--um--right,” he said. Brian whipped off the towel and tipped him back onto the cushions.

“Your mom was asking you to pay for the divorce and custody battle between your sister and her queer, soon-to-be ex-husband?”

“Yep,” said Brian, letting his full weight settle on top of Justin, one leg sliding between his legs. It was Justin’s turn to start laughing, his chest moving against Brian’s, their legs tangled and their arms wrapped lightly around each other. Brian took advantage of Justin’s open mouth and licked into it.

For the first time in so many years he’d lost count, he didn’t feel like throwing up after an encounter with his mother. He felt free.